Rhett and Scarlett
by PrincessAlica
Summary: Formerly Rhett & Scarlett's Wedding Night - This is what I imagine as Scarlett' POV of her wedding night with Rhett. The following chapter is Scarlett's pov of Bonnie's death, kinda my own lost moments of GWTW series I guess
1. The Wedding Night

Another wedding, another wedding night. Another night filled with acts that left her uncomfortable and degraded. She still hated the thought of marital relations as much as she had after her first encounter with Charles the night after their wedding night. The only exception, the only thing that made the thought of this anymore pleasant, was that at least Rhett was handsome. His kisses did send tingling shimmers through her body. There was a faint glimmer of hope that this would be a little more pleasant than her previous wedding nights. But the act itself was not pleasant to her, and the possible outcomes of such moments were even more obvious to her now that she had not one child, but two. She well knew the outcome of sharing a bed with a husband.

The day itself had been happy enough. Rhett had paid for a dress that was made for her from fine silk that he had brought back from Paris. It was very comely and in the height of fashion. And Scarlett knew that she had looked lovely in it. Rhett had certainly looked at her as if she was. And Scarlett took great pride in the fact that she was no longer without the money to buy nice things again.

They had stood before the justice of the peace with Melanie and Ashley in attendance, while Aunt PittyPat and Prissy and Dilcey had sat behind them keeping an eye on Wade, Beau, and little Ella. In many ways it had been much like her wedding to Frank.

But now that was all behind her, the meal that Rhett had treated everyone to at the National Hotel had settled in her stomach. The moist cake that they had shared was gone down to the last crumbs. Ashley and Melanie had offered to keep the children while the newly-weds enjoyed their honeymoon, and so there was nothing left but to consummate the marriage. But that was what she was most afraid of. She wondered if she would feel the same if it was Ashley that she was waiting for, but she couldn't image thinking of the marriage bed as anything other than unpleasant.

She stood beside the bed, clad only in a thin nightgown. She was stuck unmoving, uncertain where she should go. Rhett would certainly assume his rights tonight, and the thought of it filled her with dread. But she would not show him fear. He only laughed at her fear.

When the door opened and he appeared, he caught her still stuck in quandary as to where she should go. His arms were laden with bottles of champagne and glasses and a basket of tempting pastries. "Considering how little you ate at dinner, I thought I should be prepared so you wouldn't resort to eating me." He chuckled.S

He approached her slowly, and she trembled. "Are you cold?" He asked.

She shook her head nervously, her brilliant green eyes darting around like a cat that was trying to escape. Her heart beat furiously in her chest. She knew she couldn't escape from him. And she also knew that it would not be merely a once a week occurrence. She closed her eyes, trying to hide her terror from him. It would not do for him to have more power to wield over her. But she could not will her body to stop trembling.

She found a glass filled with champagne thrust into her hand. "Drink this." He instructed.

She nervously tilted the glass and began sipping at the contents. The bubbles tickled at her nose, and the drink itself tingled as it went down. It gave her something else to focus on – something tangible instead of the fears that had been taunting her. She took a deep breath before tipping the glass and swallowing the rest of its contents.

Rhett laughed as he took her glass and refilled it for her. "You do enjoy consuming expensive things, my pet."

She merely took the glass from him, and quickly bolted it as well. With any luck soon she would be tipsy enough that it would dull her recollections of these moments.

After another glass of the champagne, Rhett's hands encircled her waist. She did not resist, simply allowing him to control the night. He looked into her eyes, and she prayed that he could not read the fear that she knew had to be gleaming from their depths. "It's all right, Scarlett. I promise this won't be like your other wedding nights." In his voice she heard tenderness mixed with the sarcasm and mocking that was usually included in their conversations.

His lips fell to hers, and he first kissed her lightly and slowly. And she felt faint whispers of those emotions that he had stirred in her when he had proposed and on the road to Rough and Ready. But the alcohol was beginning to grab hold of her as his kisses deepened. His hands did not fumble as they rapidly unbuttoned the front of her nightgown. He wouldn't allow her to hide her body from him, but he motioned for her to lie down on the bed. He disrobed himself before joining her, and then he lay beside her – lowering himself with just as much grace as everything else that he did. His hands roamed her naked body, and he continued his kisses the made her mind dull to all else. This wasn't unpleasant like her time with Frank, whom she had been repulsed by. She knew that Rhett wouldn't hurt her in the way that Charles had. But it still was not something that she wanted to do.

She could feel his hands running through her hair which she had left loose as he had instructed, as he kissed along her neck. Occasionally her body responded with shooting sparks of emotion and pleasure, but she was so afraid that it might hurt again that the only thing keeping her from tightening into a stiff mass was the alcohol that he had so liberally plyed her with. But his touch was gentle as he held her. He continued kissing her and drawing her in until her body even seemed to invite him to join with her.

When finally he climbed on top of her, she lay there quietly receiving the passion that he was pouring out, although there still seemed to be a part of himself that he was hiding from her. But the alcohol had numbed her mind too fully to allow her to truly think about anything. She didn't see how this was fun, although Rhett did seem to be enjoying himself, but at least it was pleasant. She wouldn't fear future encounters other than the possibilities that came forth from them.

She did not turn from Rhett's kisses, she welcomed the warmth of his arms and his presence. She felt safe when he was near and that satiated her. Perhaps things wouldn't be as bad as her other marriages Brief thoughts of Ashely flitted through her mind. Would he be as gentle as Rhett had been? Would marital intimacy be pleasant as well? She had never really allowed herself to ponder those issues about Ashley because the marriage bed had, prior to this night, meant nothing but pain, but Rhett's tenderness had opened another avenue of thought.

She turned away from Rhett, but she did not remove herself from his embrace. She enjoyed the warmth of his arms around her. She felt as his hands wove through her hair, gently stroking it, allowing it to flow over him as he held her. She sighed quietly, hoping that this really would make her happier than her life before, even if she hadn't gotten Ashley. She tried to drive away thoughts of wishing that it was Ashley holding her, but she could not. But at least that this was pleasant enough that she could think of what was happening to some degree. She had not needed to flee from her mind as previous encounters had required. Perhaps marriage to Rhett would remain as pleasant as this, even he didn't always say the most pleasant things to her.


	2. Bonnie's Death

It was a bewildering world that she awoke to. She had fainted only a handful of times in her life, despite all of the toil and turmoil that she had undergone and the tightly laced corsets of her youth. Of the few instances that should could remember, one was that horrible day when she had visited Rhett in jail to try to get money to pay the taxes on Tara. It had been bewildering then, and yet it was even more so now. And to awake for one of the first time from a fainting spell into a world such as the one she was now in left her breathless and dizzy. This was not the world that she knew.

Her mind tried to remember what had been happening to cause her to end up here on the floor alone. But mercifully at the moment her mind was blank. She only knew that she was alone, laying on the floor of her bedroom near the window. The first piece that returned to her was that she had been standing at the window, looking into the backyard. It had been a peaceful day, and the children had been enjoying the weather. Bonnie had been tossing her head about, her curls tumbling around her cherubic face in riotous abandon as she ordered her poor pony about the yard. She had been overcome by the prettiness of the child in her blue habit that was in sore need of replacement. "You're mighty pretty, precious." she had called out impulsively. Bonnie had responded generously with a "so are you!" Her mind faltered on the moments that followed that exchange however. It was almost as if her mind could not bear to remember.

But where was everyone? It made no sense that there was no one here. Scarlett struggled against the many layers of clothing to rise from the floor. The back of her head ached for no one had caught her when she had fainted. Bonnie would surely think that her mother was quite a silly goose for this. But Rhett wouldn't care. Rhett didn't seem to care about anything she did any longer, unless he thought that there was a chance that her misconduct might somehow spoil Bonnie's chances in society.

But then the events that had followed trickled back into her mind. The images flashed before her eyes, images of long since faded past mingling with the present. "Watch me take this one!" Voices calling out those words, musical voices filled with pride and vigor. And then she recalled the image of Bonnie flying headlong at the jump, of those moments that had at the same time been terribly fast and painfully slow burning and smoldering in her mind. It was a jump just like that which had killed Gerald O'Hara on a hot June day seven years before.

At the thought of what had happened occurred to her, she gagged. "No, no. I can think of it later." She told herself trying to get her emotions under control and to collect herself**.** She stumbled across the room, but was impeded in her progress by a wave of nausea that sent her rushing to the chamber pot in the corner of the room. There were too many emotions, too much had happened. She just couldn't take it all in.

But no, no. Bonnie might not be gone. It had only been a nightmare. A child of four was not gone from her life. No Bonnie, bright Bonnie would only be nursing a broken arm, a broken rib possibly. Bonnie was too full of life for it to be snuffed out. Any minute she would be bursting into the room offering her mother a kiss. No Bonnie was not gone.

When there was nothing left in her stomach and her stomach had stopped its convulsions, she rose and wiped her mouth with a towel and rinsed her mouth to remove the horrible after taste. After checking her appearance in the mirror, she stepped outside the door to her room and shut it quietly. The entire house was quiet. There was no sounds of Wade and Ella chattering in the nursery, no clatter of dishes filtering through doorways from the kitchens. It was an eerie silence that hung uneasily upon the normally bustling household. And yet Scarlett could not find her voice to call out and vanquish it.

She slowly made her way down the stairs, and still the house seemed deserted. Was there no one here at all? Finally at the front door, she peered outside. She recognized the coach outside, it was Dr. Meade's own. "He must be here tending to whatever injury that Bonnie's fall had inflicted upon itself." She thought.

She stood quietly without moving in the middle of the entry hall, like a child lost in a foreign land. Her lips mouthed Bonnie's name. Then she found her voice, although it came out in a raspy whisper at first. "Bonnie? Bonnie Baby, where are you?" Her voice cried out in a frenzied rush. There was fear griping her heart, painfully constricting it. "Bonnie! Bonnie! Eugenia Victoria Butler! Answer me! Bonnie! Bonnie!" Her breathing was rapid and painful in her chest. "Bonnie, where are you?" But there was no answering childish voice assuring her that all was right. No flashing blue eyes sparkled up at her.

She was caught still standing in the entryway, bellowing like a street peddler, by a small hand on her shoulder. "Oh, darling, I'm so sorry." Melanie voice's crooned.

"What are you sorry for?" Scarlett returned sharply.

"Darling Scarlett, don't you...." There was a catch in Melanie's voice as she looked into Scarlett's face that had suddenly become ashen. "You don't know?"

"I don't know what? I was upstairs, and I must have fainted." There was a heavy feeling of dread in the pit of her stomach. "What is it Melanie? Quite beating around the bush and just spit it out. What is it that I don't know?"

Tears sparkled on Melanie's pale cheeks, and she tried to force the words out. "Bonnie's gone, Scarlett. She's gone."

Scarlett stood there silently for a moment, her mouth slack and open until finally a word escaped. "No," she responded. "No."

"Scarlett, dear." Melanie tried to place a consoling arm around Scarlett who only shrugged it off.

"No. You're wrong. I don't know why you would say such a cruel thing. She's not gone. She's not. Don't say that she is!"

"Scarlett, please. Darling, I'm sorry, so sorry." Melanie tried in vain to break through to her.

"No. There isn't anything to be sorry about. She's just hurt. She broke her arm or her leg, but she's not gone." Her eyes were wide and wild, although the rest of her face was oddly still and blank. "I will tell you something though, she's not going to ride that pony again. I don't care what Rhett says. I won't let her."

"Darling, I think you should sit down. You need to rest."

"She's not gone! She's fine. I just saw her. She's not gone! She can't be gone!"

"Scarlett." Melanie soothed.

"She can't be gone, Melly. She can't be." Scarlett whispered in a voice filled with agony. "She's just a baby. Melly, no. No. No. Not my baby. Not Bonnie. No!" And her eyes filled with tears as Melanie's thin arms pulled them tightly together.

"Shh, shhh, Scarlett." There were no other words to be offered. For no platitude could lighten the loss, no words could bring back the child and heal the hurt. Then Scarlett twisted violently and ran into parlor and got sick again in one of the potted plants that adorned the room. There was nothing left to expel, and so she knelt on the floor heaving emptily. Melanie knelt beside her placing a gentle hand on Scarlett's back.

Finally completely spent, and weaker than she had been save one or two times in her life, she looked up at Melanie. "I think I need to lie down." She whispered softly, almost as if ashamed at her weakness.

"Of course darling, should I fetch someone to help you up the stairs?"

"No. If you would only walk up with me, I'm certain that I can make it. I don't want anyone else to see me like this."

"Of course not." Melanie agreed.

They made slow progress up the stairs, and then Melanie helped Scarlett out of her corset. She tucked her into her bed like a small child. "Sleep, Scarlett. You are going to need your rest."

As Melanie left the room, Scarlett watched her with haunted eyes. Her entire world was crumbling again, and she felt powerless to do anything to stop it. She felt lying there in the plush surroundings of her room that she was again back at Twelve Oaks lying the dirt of the slaves' vegetable garden. The world seemed to be a bleak barren land, as unforgiving as stone.


	3. Chapter 3

Death was not new, nor was it even unusual to her. No, death had already claimed her first two husbands and both of her parents. All of the boys who she had grown up with, save two Fontaine boys and Ashley, were all gone. All four bright and brassy Tarletons had been lost, and with their deaths went a part of Scarlett's heart that could not be reclaimed. Her life had been full of death, full of grief and mourning. And yet this death was the first death that had come at such a time that she had the time to grieve, and know what true grief was. And now she truly felt the pain deep inside of her heart, piercing into the core of her soul.

She had not mourned Charles, for she had barely known him. She had married him, and yet still knew very little about him. She had mourned for Frank. She had not wanted him to die, and still she felt an odd pang of guilt for her role in his demise on occasion. But eventually she had listened to Rhett who had told her that she had done only what needed to be done. She was not guilty of his blood. She refused to let it weigh her down.

The death of the Tarleton twins had hit her harder than any death of those from her generation. They had been so full of life that it still seemed impossible that they were all gone like a vapor in the early morning sun. She had loved Brent and Stuart. If not the love of wife, she had loved them as two of her closest friends from her life before the war. She didn't allow herself to think of them now, not since the night that she had returned to Tara after Atlanta had fallen.

That was the night that she learned that her mother was dead; the night that her entire world had collapsed. There had only been one night that she had allowed herself to grieve that loss. One night in which she had drowned her sorrows in corn whiskey and allowed the dizzying tide to pull her under. When she had risen the next morning, she had sworn to never look back again. And she hadn't, hadn't allowed herself to mourn or miss or even remember the things that were now forever gone.

But still barely a breath away from those moments, she had learned of her father's death. Her life had still seemed to hang so precariously on the precipice of falling back into the bleak, barren wasteland of poverty and want. It was as if any moment the Yankees would come and it would all burn to the ground in a engulfing fire that consumed all in its path. Her father had been the man who had once the center of her universe. But he was gone, along with all of the others that she loved.

She lay in silence, with a cool rag over her eyes, trying not to remember, trying not to think of the losses, trying not to be pulled under by the abyss of grief that threatened her. And yet she could not help but cry. She cried for Bonnie, cried for the baby, cried for the life that had been lost to her.

But as she lay in her large bed surrounded by the trappings of wealth, a rare glimpse of the truth of her life came to her. Wealth could not protect you from sadness. Money did not bring happiness. Rhett had promised that marriage could be fun, but she could see no evidence to prove his declaration. Instead her life was a tale of misery and woe. And the man who vowed to show her security and money instead continuously gave her nothing but grief and despair.

It was so easy now, when swallowed by the darkness of grief and despair to lay the entirety of the burden upon him. Now he had taken not only one child from her, but two. He had taunted her, come at her in exactly the way that he knew would incite her to a rage. And she had risen to his bait and nearly died because of it. And now his damned pride, and his determination that he would always be first in their daughter's eyes had killed the child. Bonnie should not have been jumping, let alone a higher bar at only four year old.

Her sadness and her denial of Bonnie's death were washed away by the engulfing wave of anger the suddenly boiled and bubbled in her veins. With a strength born of that rage, she rose from the bed wanting to lash out at anyone that had ever caused her grief. With a single minded purpose she strode from the shadowed confines of her room into the glowing light of the hall.

The door to his room was closed. It was closed to her, just as her door had been closed to him at one time. But she tried to door to see if it was locked. And it was. But Bonnie was in there. There was no doubt in her mind that Rhett was keeping the child with him, and it was Rhett who had taken Bonnie from her. It was not this moment alone, but four years of being cast aside and pushed away from her child. And now that she was so filled with grief and anger, she finally unleashed it upon him. "Open the door! Give me my child. Give me my child that you killed!" She screamed hoarsely at the door, as her hands beat furiously upon the thick wood. "You have no right to be in there! She's my child, too. And I'm not the one who killed her! Let me have my child!"

But she could not stay there, standing in the hall, and he would not let her enter. His words were as cold and calloused as hers had been. And so she retreated to her room, retreated spent and time weary from the expense of her outburst. But she only allowed herself those few moments, for life still would go on even when it seemed like it should not.

She dressed in black from head to toe, her heart and mind protesting at the thought that she should be forced once again to deal with death. There was no end to it. Death surrounded her. Just when she thought she might be free from death for a while, here again it stared her in the face. But she could not indulge in the grief that was tearing at her heart, no she had to still take care of a household and two children that offered her no comfort. She would send the children to stay with Melanie. She didn't want them to suffer through this tragedy in this house of sadness. No, Melanie would make sure that they were taken care of.

She knew that she would shoulder the burden alone. There was no one that offered to lessen the load. There was no one to turn to in her devastation. And death had always been around, a close companion to all. A child dying, no matter how loved that child had been, was no surprise. Children died all of the time. And though her heart grieved and ached, she knew that what needed to be done must be done.

And so with a heavy heart, Scarlett began planning the funeral for her child, her bright and amazing daughter. Blue. There would have to be blue flowers on the white gown that she would be laid out in. Blue flowers were even out of place, but Bonnie had so loved blue that Scarlett could not help but think that it was what Bonnie would have wanted. And the coffin, a coffin much smaller than coffins should be allowed to be, would be draped in blue velvet instead of black. The same blue velvet that Scarlett had ordered to make a new habit to replace the sorely soiled one.

If it were only before the war, the funeral would be a grand affair – a spectacular tribute to an amazing child. But now, now funerals were much more modest, and even in death Scarlett did not want to tarnish her child's reputation, little though did it matter now. Scarlett made a note to contact a florist, wanting the glass sided hearse that she would arrange for to be spilling over with white roses. She couldn't do anything else for Bonnie, and so she poured all she had into making the arrangements to be beautiful and done right. And by allowing the task to consume her, she had no time to dwell on the aching in her heart.

Her child was gone. That could not be changed. And as sad and heartbroken as she was she knew that life would have to gone on anyway.


	4. Sewing the Robe

Her fingers hurt. Her neck ached. That place in her back that had never quite fully healed after the miscarriage sent ripples of pain through her body, and yet she continued. Her head was bent and she squinted at the work in front of her. Mammy and Melanie were both fussing at her that she needed to stop and rest, but she couldn't. They thought that a woman was too delicate to handle something like this, and they expected her to collapse into a pool of tears. The only way that she was holding herself together was to remain as busy as humanly possible. That was how she had managed mother's death and pa's death. Busy hands left little time to think of the pain in her heart.

"Scarlett, darling, please let someone help you. I know that you say that you are fine, but I do wish..." Melanie interrupted her.

"Melanie Wilkes, if you ask me one more time if I am fine or how I am holding up one more time I shall scream" she said through gritted teeth. Even knowing that Melanie was only trying to help did not impede that flash of lightning anger from rising within her. Didn't they understand that asking that question made her think for a moment about the pain and grief. She was fine until she remembered. And she did not want to remember.

"I'm sorry, Melly..." Scarlett whispered in an agonized breath.

"Don't worry about it Darling."

So She focused her bleary eyes upon the white fabric that had been draped over her lap and carefully poked the blue threads through the thin material. With each stitch, the flowers seemed to spring forward from the garment, giving it life and beauty when it seemed that all life and beauty in the world was gone. This was not even her job. No, others had offered, tried to insist even that she needed to be resting and taking care of herself. Mammy insisted that she had never quite recovered from the accident and truth be told she never would quite be the same. But this must be done, this task could not wait. It took precedence over everything else. Even now family was pouring in from all over. Rhett's mother was on her way from Charleston, and Scarlett knew that soon the house would be filled with somber guests, grieving for a child that they didn't even really know. They didn't know her. They didn't have a right to cry. This wasn't their child.

"Miz Scahlutt, Miz Suellen done sent this heah telegram for you." Prissy said as she entered the room, which was completely silent as the mistress of the house worked.

"Thank you, Prissy. That will be all." she returned in a voice that sounded tight and strange to those used to Mrs. Butler's usual tone.

She set the paper aside, already certain of what it would contain, and at the moment she could not tolerate reading the missive. "Melly, could you read that and make whatever arrangements need to be made. I have to finish this."

She looked down at the white muslin that she pinched between her fingers. The stitches were slightly irregular for she had not been responsible for doing any stitching since she had been married to Frank. She had never been a perfect seamstress, nor had she seen the need in it. Even as a child she had never taken pride in her stitchery as mother and mammy had hoped that she would. Both Careen and Suellen were far more proficient than she. But her mother had always taken care of things so that she had not had to. But she could not hand this task off as she had done for so many others. There were not many things that she had taken the time for to make for her child as her own mother had done for her and this was the last thing that she could do.

"Of course, Scarlett darling. Don't worry about it. And if you need anything else you just send for me. I'm going to take Wade and Ella with me so that you don't need to worry about them." Melanie took the slip of paper and set off towards the kitchen to handle the matter for her sister in law.

When Melanie had left the room, Scarlett sighed and closed her stinging eyes. She sat unmoving in the silence, wishing for it to be broken. Wishing that she was brave enough to try and keep the children at the house, if for no other purpose than to shatter the deafening void. But they would be happier and be better off with Melanie and Ashley and Beau than here. They would be better off any where other than here. Anyone would be.

When the front door shut with the slight rustling of starched skirts and the soft pitter patter of the children's feet as they rushed away with their Auntie, Scarlett set the needle aside and cradled the robe in her arms, as if she were holding the child and not merely a piece of cloth. The child would never know of the time that she had spent or the love and grief that had been poured into the small thing. No one would ever know.

It was easier if she did not think about it, far easier to allow someone else to answer the questions than to utter the words herself. It was as if speaking the words made them real. And she was not ready for this reality. She needed to deny it as long as it was possible.

She rose again in silence and made her way up the stairs, looking at the shut doors like a child lost looking for her mother. "Mother," she thought. "Oh, how she wished that mother were here. She needed her mother's arms to hold her so that she could bury her face in mother's chest and empty herself of the building storm of tears."

Finally she chose a door to enter. As she walked into the nursery, still filled with the children's play things, she could not ignore the truth. There was little here that was Bonnie's for many of her favorite things were in her father's room -- her room. And Scarlett was not allowed to enter there. Rhett refused to allow her in and warned all of the servants to abide by his wishes. Bonnie was there. Bonnie was in there in the darkness all alone. And as much as Scarlett wanted to rescue her child, she knew that Rhett would kill her without question for disturbing the child. No, not a child. She was no longer a child. She was an empty lifeless body. Bonnie was not with them anymore.

She wanted her child. Wanted to hold her one more time, and yet she knew that she would never hold her again. She wished that there had been more moments between them. She wished for more time. There had not been enough time-- not nearly enough time to spend with her. Rhett had stolen her time. Rhett had stolen her child.

He was the one that had done this. He had killed Bonnie by allowing her to do exactly as she pleased. He had let her ride that damned pony over a jump that was too tall, even though he had known that it was too high. But he could not deny her anything. He had never disciplined her, never made her mind him. He had never listened to his own wife advisements, not would he allow her to discipline the child. He had loved their child, though it seemed that Bonnie had been more his child than theirs, with a love that bordered on obsession. A love that made Scarlett jealous for she wanted his love to be directed at her as well. She might have been more tolerant if any love had been left for her, but all of his love was consumed, and there was none remaining for his wife.

The nursery always needing tidying, no matter how often Mammy sent one of the maids up to handle it. And with guests coming in from all over, Scarlett wanted everything to look perfect. And besides tidying this room would keep her hands busy, and that was what she needed. There was a pile of books by one of the chairs that Scarlett knew was one of Wade's favorite spots. She picked up the stack and placed them back on the bookshelf that was still within easy reach of Wade's cozy chair. A small table was set with miniature dishes, as if Ella had been waiting for her sister to come and join her for tea.

That was not to be.

Scarlett reached down and picked up a misplaced toy. It was a doll that had once been Bonnie's, before Bonnie had abandoned it for one of the stuffed horses that Rhett had given her. The doll was an expensive one, but dark ringlets clipped from Bonnie's own hair. It was dressed in a blue ballgown, and was painted to resemble the child that it had been made for. It stared up at her with glassy blue eyes, unnerving her with the similarity to her lost child.

Scarlett took the doll with her and sat upon Ella's bed neatly made bed. She gingerly stroked the doll's hair - Bonnie's hair. Her eyes were still dry, but the doll had circumvented her plans to avoid the fact that the child was gone. She slowly pulled the doll close to her body, relishing the weight of it. Her fingers kept stroking the shiny curls, as tears began to seep out unheeded.

She abruptly stood and set the doll in a cradle that had been made for it. She brushed angrily at the tears that were gathering, that she could not seem to stop. They streamed down her face, cascading like a waterfall. She gathered her skirts and rushed towards the door, but the tears continued. And then as she slammed the door from the nursery, the sobs began. She couldn't do this. She shouldn't have to do this. She should not be mourning her child. Her child should not be dead. It was not like a baby that was so fragile, that might very well not make it to a year. No, Bonnie had been strong and vibrant. And the loss of her sent tremors through Scarlett's heart.

She paused for a moment, needing a place to go where the emotions and memories did not completely swallow her. Finally sobbing she ran down the stairs, as one of her hands quivered over the railing at the side. She hurried towards the back of the house, rushing past bewildered servants, but then stopped before she opened the doors to the terrace. She couldn't face looking out there just yet. She wasn't prepared to deal with those memories.

So instead she turned and rushed towards the front of the house to the front door, which she flung open and ran out without a thought other than to flee from her life. It didn't matter that each breath sent stabbing pains through her body, for corsets were not designed to be run in. It mattered little that she didn't even know where she was going. She needed to be away, needed to be anywhere but in this house of death and sadness.

She ran, not watching where she was going or thinking about what she was doing, only wanting to escape from this strangling pain in her heart.

"Scarlett!" someone yelled and she was startled to find a hand yanking her away from the direction that she was running.

She blinked owlishly as she realized that she had made it all the way downtown, and it was Ashley that had jerked her arm so strongly. A speeding carriage whizzed by them, and Scarlett looked at Ashley in surprise. "I.... I.... I...."

"Scarlett, you must be more careful. You could have been killed." he gently chastised.

"Oh, what does it matter?" She exclaimed, her voice shrill and full of anguish. "Its not as if anyone would miss me." She quickly covered her mouth, for she had not meant to say such things to anyone, least of all Ashley. "I shouldn't.."

"Please allow me to take you home. You shouldn't be out. You should be resting."

"Don't start that with me, Ashley Wilkes. If I lie down I'll go crazy. I can't just sit and think about the something. I need to not think. I need to be doing something or I'll scream." She gave him an impassioned plea, but with none of the charm and trickery that she had used all of her life. There was frightening desperate look in her eyes. She held her body like a wounded animal, ready to fight back even if she had nothing to fight back with.

"It's going to be all right, Scarlett." He tried again to soothe her.

"How?" She screeched. "How is it going to be all right? Bonnie is dead. And... and.... well Rhett...."

"Has he gone mad with grief? Has he hurt you?" Ashley prodded.

"No... No... he's just so sick with the grief...." she offered lamely. "Can you take me home? Perhaps I do need to rest."

"Should I get Melly? I know that she wants to help you."

"No, no. I'll be fine. I just found one of Bonnie's dolls, and …."

"You don't need to say more. I'll take you home. Don't worry about anything."

Scarlett nodded, and took a handkerchief from Ashley. "I'll be fine." she repeated.

"This is why you didn't want to remember that day at the mill, isn't? You can be strong and handle it until you remember it is what you have lost." She turned towards him, more tears pouring forth. In that moment she no longer looked like a woman. She looked like a little girl that had lost her way.

"Perhaps not remembering is the only way to survive when you have suffered such losses as you have been dealt. I understand now. I won't remind you again, and selfishly try to make you relive what is best left in the past. I only wish that I was as strong as you." He handed her a handkerchief after he lifted her into carriage, and ten stepped in to join her.

The ride back to the house was made in silence. Ashley to be afraid to ask any questions, on the chance that it would cause more tears, and Scarlett found that a lump had formed in her throat making it impossible to speak.

When they arrived back at the house, Ashley lifted Scarlett from the carriage and kissed her softly on the check. She pulled away from him and trudged slowly back towards the house. She could feel

Ashley's eyes watching her. But she would make it. Somehow she would survive today, and then she would deal with the next. There was no sense in borrowing trouble. She had enough grief already.


End file.
